


sibilance and plosives

by murbeft



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: F/M, Shameless Smut, just unabashed smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 08:39:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7838026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/murbeft/pseuds/murbeft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You’re stuck rerecording audio with Joel before summer vacation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sibilance and plosives

The spacebar on your keyboard was loose. Too loose.  To be fair, it was arguably the most touched key on this computer. But every time you tapped space to pause and cut audio, you could have sworn was going to be the time the key would finally give up and just pop off.

On one half of the screen, you had the latest RvB script, and on the other half were all of the raw audio files for the week. What was described to you as an easy task had turned into an all-day affair. 

You glanced at the clock display on the corner of your screen. It was 4:30pm on a Friday. The last Friday before most of the RT employees were taking time off for a summer vacation. The B Team (as you all had been affectionately called) would pick up the slack for everyone on vacation.

Which brings you back to your predicament. Most of the audio edits were easy, just as Burnie described them to be. Matt and Gus needed little to no extra takes in the booth, and there was minimal idle chatter in between takes. Geoff’s phone would ring occasionally with another text from Gavin, but he would produce a perfect take the next go around every time.

Then there was Joel’s file. In his defense, his voice takes a little more warming up to get it to that perfect Caboose sound. But there was so much nonsense in between takes of him going off on tangents about how gold futures were dipping late in the day, corn was surprisingly rising, and how cocoa was at a rare high for this time of the year. It was to the point where it had started to bleed into his takes, and what would start as a light-hearted Caboose quip would morph into a snarky Joel one-liner. 

Simply put, there were more than a few lines of his that needed to be completely rerecorded. You glanced at the clock again and drummed your fingers against the keyboard. You really didn’t want to go down and get Joel. You really didn’t want to tell him that his lines were shit and needed to be redone (not in those exact words, but still). You didn’t want to have to bring him back upstairs and be alone with him.

The first year after you were hired, at your first RoosterTeeth Christmas party, both you and Joel had gotten rip-roaring drunk on Geoff’s “super special” eggnog. The last thing you remembered from that night was hanging a sprig of mistletoe from the front of your dress. When you woke up in Michael and Lindsay’s bathtub the next day, they filled in the gaps. Particularly the tequila body shots, pipe-cleaner reindeer antlers, and the drunken make-out session with Joel.

“At least everyone knows you can party with the best of them,” Michael had said, trying to make you feel better about the whole situation. It didn’t. The next few months were filled with jokes and little reminders of just how well you can party from everyone else in the office. To say you were embarrassed was the understatement of the century.

So now, six months later, you find yourself walking downstairs, to the break room where Joel sat, chatting to Geoff before he left with Griffon and Millie to the airport. While they talked, you grabbed a drink from the fridge to bide your time until Geoff left. 

You stood there for a moment, your fingernails tapping the top of the soda can, until you finally stepped forward and placed it down on the steel table where Joel sat.

“So I’ve been finishing up the audio edits for RvB,” you paused to swallow the lump in your throat and look up at him, “And there are a few issues with your audio track.”

Joel stopped typing away at this laptop, and raised his eyes to look at you. It wasn’t until he raised his eyebrows as a silent question that you realized that you were staring at him and not talking.

“A-and if you’ve got the time, I’ve got the booth set up and we could just rerecord really quickly?”

His expression was still quizzical.

“If you’re busy, that’s totally fine, too. It is almost after five, and I know everyone’s trying to get out of here and to the airport or whatever for vacation–”

“I’m spending my vacation on my couch with a 12-pack of Shiner Bock,” he said flippantly before shutting his laptop. “No, no I’ve got the time, let’s get this over with.”

Ten minutes later and you watched him thumb through his script from the other side of the plexiglass window of the recording booth. You put your headphones on and you could hear Joel warming up in your ears and see the waveform on your computer screen.

You clicked away at your computer, adjusting levels and channels while he talked nonsense as Caboose until you were ready. Once everything sounded right to you, did you actually pay attention to what he was saying.

“The pretty lady has a mean look on her face! I don’t know if I like it. I don’t like mean ladies but I keep meeting them! She’s gonna make me stay here all night and I can’t miss Dancing with the Stars: Sidewinder Edition!”

You looked up from your monitor to stare at Joel, your expression stony as you bite the inside of your mouth and try not to smile. He has a playful glint in his eyes that brings the repressed feelings you have for him bubbling back up.

“Let’s just take it from the top of scene 3, please?” You say dryly.

The rest of the takes went smoothly, except for the last line in the script. It was a tongue twister that Caboose was supposed to butcher, but Joel oddly kept getting it right. After the 15th failed take he threw his arms up in defeat and knocked the mic down on accident. You got up and walked around to the recording booth, and when you swung the door open and found Joel picking the mic stand back up. 

With a sigh you gently pushed him out of the way so you could rewire the mic and make sure the fall hadn’t broken the mic completely. However, the recording booth was really only meant for one so “pushing him out of the way” still left the two of you cramped in a small, very quiet space.

You bent over, untangling wires, and the lack of any type of background noise was starting to get to you. It was clearly bothering Joel as well because continued to talk in his Caboose voice to no one in particular while you worked.

“I think I might have ruined everything. If Church was here he could take care of this. He can handle anything! He even knows how to flirt with pretty girls.”

You turned to look up at Joel as you plugged the cord back into the mic. “Are you finished, Joel?”

“I don’t know. Tucker told me to ‘just be myself around chicks and they’ll come flocking to you.’ I don’t know why he is so obsessed with chickens though. I was asking for help with girls.”

Straightening up, you turned to face Joel, a stupid grin proudly painted across his face. “I’m sorry Caboose, but I like someone else. And I’m pretty sure I made a complete ass out of myself in front of them a while back so I’m flying solo for now,” you said as you reached up and patted Joel’s shoulder. As you started to pull your hand away, he grabbed a hold of it and kept it in place.

“I’m sure after a few drinks you’ll warm up to him. I hear Geoff’s eggnog helps.” The Caboose voice was gone.

You were talking to Joel now.

“Joel, can we not right no–”

“Why? It’s been six months and you’ve avoided me like the plague since that night.”

“Because not only did I make out with one of my _bosses_ that night, but I did so in front of the rest of the company. …And I puked all over my dress.”

“…You did? When?”

“Whenever Michael and Lindsay hauled me back to their place. I woke up in their bathtub/shower and the front of my dress was covered in that goddamn eggnog.” You crossed your arms over your chest and looked away from Joel, instead focusing on the foam egg crates that absorbed all of the errant sound in the booth.

“I liked that dress.  You looked very cute in it.”

You fought the reflex to look over at him.

“And the way you did your hair that night? I guess 'cute’ isn’t the right word. You were…beautiful.”

You never noticed how it was actually two layers of foam lining the walls. Interesting. Still not looking.

“Ok, 'were’ wasn’t really the best choice either. You  _are_  beautiful.”

You tried as hard as you could to hold back a smile but the corners of your mouth began to twitch. Before you knew it a hand was cupping your face and turning it towards his.

“Really. You see right now, you’re doing this thing where you’re trying to play it cool and stone hearted, but when you start to crack you get this little wrinkle in between your eyebrows–Oh, there it is!” Joel touched the wrinkle in your brow lightly, his smile turning into a grin.

“I don’t know why you’re so worried about what everyone else thinks about you. When Gavin first started working here, he had this hideous euro-mullet that we grilled him relentlessly about. Jack was still living with his parents when he was hired. Hell, Geoff went through that pornstache phase. Everyone takes some shit when they start working here. It was bound to happen sooner or later. We do it out of love.” Your face softened as he spoke.

“Yeah, but a mullet versus practically mounting you in front of everyone? I think mine’s a little worse,” you grumbled.

“No, that mullet was pretty bad. That’s why Griffon started cutting his hair.”

A chuckle huffed out from between your lips and the smile you had been suppressing finally lit up your face. “There it is,” Joel muttered as his hand moved from your forehead down to ghost over your lips.

Just as soon as his hand was there, it was gone. The silence, true silence, hung in between you two. Your tongue dipped out of your mouth to lick your lips before swallowing hard. You opened your mouth to say something, but before you could, Joel closed the gap between you both. His lips met yours and they were soft, oh _god_ they were soft. His lips lingered against yours, pulling away before you could return the kiss.

“Sorry,” Joel said. Barely a whisper. He cleared his throat and started to turn away. You reached out and grabbed his arm, attempting to pull him back to you, but instead you ended up pulling yourself to him. There was no space to spare between you two and your free hand ended up resting on Joel’s chest. You could feel his heart thumping against your hand, and for a second you weren’t sure if that was his pulse or your own.

“Don’t,” you swallowed the lump in your throat as you looked up at him, “Don’t be sorry.” You hands moved to cup his face, bringing his lips crashing back down to yours. His hands ran up your sides to snake around your back and pull you flush against him. The sudden movements made your breath hitch in your throat and come out as a gasp.

Everything started to blur together. Mouths, lips, tongues, gasps, moans, hands. For a moment, you were almost too entranced with Joel’s tongue wrapped with yours to notice his hands pulling at your tee shirt. You pushed away from him long enough for the shirt to be peeled off over your head and dropped to the floor. You heard Joel groan as he took in the sight of you, and you glanced up to see the hungry look in his eyes.

Your hands snuck under the hem of Joel’s shirt, pulling it off while simultaneously taking in the feel of his bare chest as your palms traveled upward. His shirt joined yours on the floor, followed quickly by your bra. His hands cupped your breasts gingerly, gauging your reaction at first. When he saw your eyes shut and your mouth slightly open, his touch intensified, groping and pinching and twisting the moans from your throat as he went.

His hand pulled your hair away to expose an expanse of your neck. As he bit and sucked marks into your flesh, your hands shakily undid the buckle of his leather belt, and with a sharp tug, the belt whipped out of his belt loops and fell to the floor with a crack. “Jesus,” Joel murmured against your skin. You hands continued their work with the button and fly of his jeans, the weight of his phone and wallet bringing the jeans to the floor with a dull thud.

Your fingertips snaked under the elastic of his boxers when he stopped you. You froze and looked up at Joel, his dark brown eyes scanning your face. Reaching up to touch the stubble on his chin, you spoke.

“Trust me, Joel. I want this,” your hand wandered up to bury itself in his hair, “I want you. I’ve wanted you for so long.” Joel’s mouth ticked up in a smile and his mouth met yours again, this time with force. He pulled your lower lip between his teeth, sucking on the bit of flesh just long enough for it to hurt before soothing it with his tongue. His hand smoothed down your stomach to the top of your pants, fingers fumbling as the button popped open.

The zipper of your fly flew down in a flash and his hand crept into your panties, finding you already wet for him.  “Holy shit,” he hissed and his hand bowed to run the length of you slit back up to your clit. Your hips bucked involuntarily to his touch. He grinned watching you react, his free hand pulling your jeans and underwear down to the floor. You stumble as he helps you out of your pants, with you ending up pressed against the wall of the sound booth for support.

With your legs now free and Joel crouched at your feet, he locked eyes with you. The glint of pure lust in his eyes pulled deep at your core. His arm hooked under your thigh and brought it to rest on top of his shoulder. Never breaking eye contact, his head dipped down to the apex of your thighs. His fingers teased your opening while his tongue tasted and licked and sucked. Your mouth hung open, whimpering and mewling with every move of Joel’s tongue against your pussy.

A finger found its way inside of you, and as it pumped you felt your knees begin to buckle. Joel used the opportunity to spread your legs more and add a second finger. Opening your eyes, you watched the muscles of Joel’s arm contract and flex while his fingers pumped inside you. His forearm, up to his bicep, and his shoulder were all tense, and he was starting to glisten with sweat.

Your eyes continued traveling, and when they finally met Joel’s gaze, you saw that he was watching your expression. The two of you locked eyes and Joel’s fingers crooked forward, brushing against your g-spot. It was slow, and every second his fingers moved against you, you slid down the wall another inch.

 “God, fuCK Joel, I’m gonna—“ your sentence devolved into a moan as Joel’s fingers left your pussy and entered his mouth. He sucked your juices off his fingers, smiling all the way. The two digits popped out of his mouth as he pulled you down to the floor with him.  You kissed him again, wanting to taste yourself in his mouth. Your hips met his and bucked against Joel, eager for contact.

 “Easy, easy. I’m not ready for you to cum just yet,” Joel whispered in your ear. You sat half in his lap while he fished around in his wallet for a condom. Taking it from his hands, you moved back to open the foil wrapper and slide it down his length in one fluid motion. Scooping you into his arms, Joel shifted forward and laid you down onto the floor.

 Joel pumped his cock twice as he positioned himself at your entrance. You ran a hand through his hair before letting it rest on his shoulder. “Joel, please. Please just fuck me,” you said through breathy pants. The waiting was unbearable.

 A smirk pulled at the corner of Joel’s mouth and he slowly pushed into you. As he did, your nails dug into his shoulder and pulled down the length of his arm, leaving a trail of pink welts in their wake. He bottomed out and you took a moment to shift under him. A bead of sweat dropped from Joel’s forehead to your chest and you looked up at his strained expression. Your hand reached up to smooth out the lines in his face, coaxing his eyes to open and look down at you. Joel’s hips slowly started to move, pumping in and out of you.

 You moan with each thrust of his and your head tilted back in pleasure. Joel took the opportunity to pull you close and suck on your collarbone. His pace increases, and his free hand snuck between you two to tease your clit.

 Your hands balled into fists with his touch. “Fuck, Joel, I’m close,” you panted, “Don’t…don’t stop.”

 His thrusts were becoming erratic, and his voice was shaky. “No one…no one can hear us in here. Scream…scream my name when I make you cum.”

 That was what drove you over the edge, and you push his hand away from your clit as you scream his name like you’re told. Your muscles tense and your hips buck against his as the orgasm ripped through you.

 A few more thrusts and Joel isn’t far behind you, covering your mouth with his own as he cums. His thrusts slowed down to a halt and he let out a low groan, resting his forehead against yours. The two of you stayed still for a moment, catching your breath. Eventually, you let out a chuckle and put your hand against Joel’s cheek.

 Slowly, he pulled out and away from you, a cheesy grin plastered across his face. He popped the door to the sound booth open and stepped out, tossing the condom into a wastebasket and look at the clock on the wall. “Jesus, is that the time?”

 You threw his jeans and belt out at him before poking your head out.

 “What did you say?”

 Joel was stepping back into his jeans when he replied, “It’s after six. I didn’t realize it was that late.”

 You slipped your underwear and pants back on, followed by your bra. You stepped out of the booth towards Joel, your shirt draped over your shoulder and his boxers in your hand. “You forgot these.”

 “Fuck,” he muttered as he stared at them, before shoving them into his pocket. You pulled your shirt over your head and noticed that Joel was staring at you again.

 “I know you’re going to be working while everyone is on vacation, but I mean, I’ll be around…if you’re,” his voice trailed off.

“Yes, Joel, I’ll come over and drink beer and cuddle with you when I’m not here editing your disjointed Let’s Plays. You can even call it a ‘date’ if you want,” you bit back a grin.

 You could have sworn that Joel’s face turned a shade a pink. He crossed over to the computer and squinted at the monitor. “Then it’s a date,” he said, “Which is good, because we’ll have to do this again.”

 “Well, hopefully not exactly this because—“

 “No, I mean we will need to do this again,” Joel said as he gestured at the computer screen. You joined him in front of it, you jaw dropping as you stare at the waveform on the screen. It’s been recording this whole time. You’re frozen in some combination of embarrassment and anger while Joel fished a thumb drive out of his pocket and plugs it into the computer. After a few clicks the file disappears from the screen and the USB drive returned to his pocket.

 “I’ll just take this. For…safekeeping,” he said with a grin.

 You wouldn’t get the USB drive back until you fished it out of his pants the next morning.


End file.
